


Snowbat

by ghostboi



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: Cold, Dom!Bat, Hand Jobs, Joker likes to lick the Bat, Kissing, Light Sadism, M/M, Masochism, Slash, Snow, abandoned buildings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostboi/pseuds/ghostboi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He didn't know what possessed him to do it. He realized this was probably a huge mistake -the man was his nemesis in most senses of the word- but he couldn't in good conscious deliberately let the other freeze. He didn't drop his guard, but he managed to ease tense muscles slightly as he felt the smaller man relax against him."</p><p>Dom!Bats within. ^_^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1. Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [korekan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=korekan).



> Disclaimers: Chars/settings aren't mine, writing & obsession is.
> 
> A/N: Inspired by korekan's gorgeous fanart: community.livejournal.com/batmanjoker/39214.html  
> Apologies for massacre'ing the chars, the probable ooc.ness, & maybe insulting korekan's beautiful work with my hack attempt here.

It was cold. Even through the Kevlar, he could feel the cold. It was cold and their battle had been nearly epic - broken bones, broken buildings, broken bodies strewn about. His breath came in short gasps, puffing white in the chilled night air, one hand clutched against his ribs. How many were cracked this time? He didn't know, and he wasn't about to let the pain take him over. He pushed it aside, eyes scanning the layers of disturbed snow covering the grounds, furrows created by another being.

There he was. His eyes found what they were seeking, a figure stumbling through snow and shadows a short distance away. He moved to pursue, blocking out the cold, his pain, everything but that one lone figure attempting to elude him.

It was almost too easy, how quickly he caught up with and overtook him. The snow here was knee deep, speed wasn't a commodity at the moment, yet he managed to catch the fleeing madman quite easily.

Eyes locked with a gaze of green fire as the Joker turned to face him, mouth bleeding, dripping down his pale chin (pale as the snow around them) onto the lapels of his coat. His eyes noted the dark colouring along the other man's cheeks and throat, a large black bruise flowering near the left temple.. Marks from tonight's seemingly endless fight. The madman's breath was rapidly puffing tiny white clouds in the air, and he half-staggered as he stepped back away from the approaching Bat. He didn't miss the hands twitching as his sides, the tongue flicking across bleeding lips, the fact that the other man was either trembling or shivering.

"How long are we going to do this, Joker?"

A low giggle escaped the madman before he received a response, "Till hell freezes over, Bats," a glance around at the snow-covered city, "Or maybe it, uh, already has."

"I'm taking you back to Arkham. Tonight."

The other man giggled again, tongue touching the corner of his mouth, tasting the blood. "No, no no, oh no. I'm not going back there, it's, uh, too cold there."

And it wasn't out here? His eyes roamed the other's lean form; the clown was shivering visibly now, clothes soaked through from the snow and ice. He started to move backward as the Bat took a step toward him, but stumbled in the knee-deep drifts. He fell back into the snow, arms flailing as he tried to catch himself but not quite succeeding.

The Bat was upon him by the time he managed a seated position. He snarled, a low growl sounding from his throat, but the fear factor was lessened by the snow in his hair and covering his clothes.

"You're going to freeze to death."

"Yea," a lick of the lips, a giggle as his teeth involuntarily chattered a bit, "I, uh.. Probably."

The Joker drew back but hadn't the time or opportunity to rise and make his escape as the Bat literally swooped down on him. The dark knight felt the other tense, taut as wire, as he knelt, brushed against the lean body and threw his cape around them both. He could feel the shivers racking the other man and drew his cape closer. It all happened in the span of seconds; as the Joker made a move to either leap away or attack him, he muttered, "Shush. Be still." The smaller man went still, eyes moving to his face and head tilted quizzically.

He didn't know what possessed him to do it. He realized this was probably a huge mistake -the man was his nemesis in most senses of the word- but he couldn't in good conscious deliberately let the other freeze. He didn't drop his guard, but he managed to ease tense muscles slightly as he felt the smaller man relax against him.

"Very noble of you, Batsy," the madman chuckled, moving deeper into the warmth of the cape and the Bat's body heat, "Verrry noble. I fucking hate the, ah, cold." The Bat's only response was to draw the cape a little closer around them both.

"We gonna stay here till the spring thaw? Cuz you know, I really wouldn't mind," that infuriating laugh followed the question, and Batman rolled his eyes.


	2. 2. Still Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This were intended to be a one.shot fic - apparently my muses decided otherwise. kicks them Mm.. Rated R type stuff going on here. Yea, another abrupt ending, my muses are not only contrary, they're also teases.

"We should get out of the cold," Batman's voice was gruff (or more gruff than usual); he was a little uncomfortable in his current position. Sitting in the snow, cape wrapped around a crazy villain to keep him from getting hypothermia, wasn't exactly his notion of comfortable. He glanced down at the reason he was in this position - the Joker's head was barely visible above the top of the cape. "Mm?" the smaller man didn't seem to be in any hurry to move. He raised a brow as a hand crept up his side; the Joker chuckled softly as he reached down to swat it away.

"No touching," the Bat growled in warning, "or I'll leave you here to freeze." He felt the madman beneath the cape shift a bit closer at the threat; a pang of sympathy almost touched him as he felt a rather violent shiver race through the man. He was about to instruct the Joker to get up so they could relocate, when he felt the smaller man's mouth against the side of his neck. He stiffened, but the bite he had been expecting didn't happen. Instead, the slow swipe of the Joker's tongue trailed along his throat. The slight thrill that raced through his body was unexpected (and completely unwelcome).

"I told you.." he growled, pulling away. "No touching," the Joker finished, "You said. I'm not touching, Bats. I'm, ah, tasting." The Bat paused at the words, turned his head to glance at the man burrowing beneath his cape. His voice was a little more hoarse than he liked but he chalked it up to the cold as he muttered, "No tasting, either." "You're a hard man, Bats," came the barely audible response. He was motionless as the Joker's tongue retraced its earlier path, sliding up the curve of his throat. He swallowed hard, causing the clown to chuckle again.

The Bat's eyes narrowed a bit and he jerked away from the madman. He grabbed the man's throat, halting him, as the other attempted to lean in close. The sound that escaped the Joker's throat was almost a purr. In an unexpected move, he yanked the clown close to him and pressed his lips to the smaller man's. The taste of blood and lipstick touched his tongue. The Joker whimpered, a sound of pleasure, as he bit down on the madman's lower lip. He bit and sucked for several seconds before pulling back, breathing slightly uneven. The Joker tried to follow but the hold on his throat prevented it. His hands moved to the Bat's waist, but the dark knight pushed him back.

"No. Touching."

The Joker opened his mouth to protest - the words were lost, coming out as a ragged breath instead, as Bat's hold on his neck tightened. He could feel the man's pulse, beating rapidly beneath his thumb. The Bat leaned in close again, brushing his lips against the smaller man's. When the Joker attempted to respond to the teasing kiss, he pulled back, out of reach. He repeated the movement twice more before the Joker was growling in frustration, snapping at his mouth with his teeth. It was the Bat's turn to chuckle softly.

"What's wrong, Joker? Not getting your way?"

"Fuck you," the madman muttered, eyes sliding closed as the grip on his neck tightened again, thumb tracing tiny circles over the racing pulse.point. "Not likely," the Bat shot back. A second later, his mouth was crushing the smaller man's in a kiss that was teeth and tongue, bruising and tasting. His hand slid up to grip the Joker's jaw as the clown pressed his body close. The clown's nails scratched at the Kevlar, and a low moan escaped him as the Bat's free hand slid down his hip, moved over to brush his groin.

The Bat ended the brutal kiss and pulled back to stare down at the madman. The man's eyes were closed, bleeding lips parted, breathing unsteady. His entire body was trembling, this time from something more than the cold. He half-opened his eyes to meet the Bat's gaze. Bat's eyes followed the movement as his tongue slid out to lick his lips, the thumb gripping the pale jaw moving to trace the corner of that red-painted mouth.

"Still cold?" amusement touched the Bat's voice - he rather liked having the madman under his thumb, so to speak. "Eh?" the Joker blinked; his eyes narrowed and a sound akin to a growl left his lips. "Down, boy," Batman smirked; his hand brushed the other's groin and the Joker jerked, half-startled, more aroused. He could feel it through the thin purple pants the man wore, could see it in the fiery green gaze.

"I'm not done with you yet."

The words brought another soft whimper from the madman.


	3. 3. Getting Warmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise this is probably way OOC, but I don't do dialogue as well as some writers. Plus I dig the whole Dom!Bats thing, & the whole 'I said shut up so you don't speak' scenario. Ahem.

Before the shivering madman had time to protest, the Bat was on his feet, pulling the smaller man up with him. Throwing the cape around them both once more (for a breeze had kicked up, blowing snow across the ground and chilling them in the process) he guided them through the drifts.

"Where we going, Bats?" he heard the muffled words from the figure practically wrapped around his side, "'m not going back to Arkham.." "Be quiet," he muttered, uncertain if the clown (if one would call him that - the Bat certainly wouldn't) heard him but not caring. He led them through the cold and snow, to the closest building. He had the Tumbler, but it was a quarter mile away. He inspected the building - it was an old laundry mat, now out of business. Satisfied that it was, in all likelihood empty, he slipped something from his belt. Within a minute, he had the lock picked. He opened the door and shoved the Joker into the semi-dark building and out of the cold, following behind. The interior of the building was only slightly warmer than the night outside, but it kept out the chilling wind. After closing and locking the door behind him, he turned to face the bane of his existence.

The madman had shrugged off his wet overcoat and tossed it on a nearby faux leather chair, battered from age and use, and was peering around the front room they were in. Said room was lit slightly by the glare of the streetlights outside the large plate glass windows. It was filled with rows of laundering equipment. Rows of dryers lined the walls, and two rows of washing machines ran down the center of the room. "We gonna do, uh, laaundry?" the clown glanced back at him to shoot him a smirk, "How.. domestic."

"I told you to be quiet," the Bat strode forward, halting inches from the Joker. The painted man raised his brows, his low chuckle echoing in the spacious room. "So dominant.." he began with a grin. The smile vanished as the Bat shoved him back against the nearest set of washing machines, pinning him with his body.

"Don't make me repeat myself," the Bat's voice was low, his lips near the other's ear. He felt yet another shiver run through the other man as his teeth nipped his earlobe. "We play the game my way this time." He pulled back to peer down at the Joker's face; the man was staring at him wide-eyed, lips slightly parted. He seemed about to speak, hesitated, remained silent. Batman reached his hand up to trail his thumb along the smaller man's lower lip, dipping in between the parted lips, tracing the outline of his mouth. He traced up along the scars etching the other's face, and the Joker cringed a bit, averted his green gaze. He giggled, suddenly and softly, lips twitching into a half-smile before growing serious again. "Wanna-" he began, voice cracking at the end of the word.

"No," the Bat interrupted, twining his free hand in the man's green hair, "I don't want to know how you got them. I don't care. Shut up, Joker." Their eyes locked; another soft giggle, but otherwise the man complied. Batman was a bit surprised, very little seemed to shut up the bundle of energy that was the Joker. Even now, he trembled against him, hands twitching against his Kevlar, eyes darting to and fro. The Bat thought perhaps he was about to take flight; he wasn't ready for that to happen. He tightened his hold in the man's green locks, trailing his other hand down the front of his shirt. He attempted to undo the top button of the shirt, but his gloves made it awkward. It made the clown giggle yet again, eyes settling on him finally. After several attempts, he let out a frustrated growl. He took hold of the shirt and jerked it - buttons went flying and the shirt fell open. Their gazes locked, and he found himself fascinated once again by the man's eyes. His eyes returned to the Joker's face, watching as his tongue shot out to lick his lips. He lowered his head and caught that mouth with his own, letting his hand slide inside the smaller man's shirt, along his side.

At his touch, the Joker jerked suddenly, tried to squirm away. He pulled back a bit, and the man whispered against his mouth, "Y-your hands are c-cold.." He growled, captured the madman's mouth again, shoved him back hard against the machines behind them.

When his mouth moved down the man's pale throat, the Joker tilted his head to allow better access. He bit down, teeth bruising the soft flesh. The clown purred and arched hard against him, hands running up his back to urge him closer. He felt the man's leg wrap around his own, hips arching, and he lifted the lithe figure to set him on the washing machine behind them. He pulled away long enough to jerk his gauntlets off, tossed them onto the nearby machines, before moving back in to reclaim his control over the smaller man. He wanted to feel the man, and not through layers of leather and Kevlar.

The Joker shivered beneath him -cold, or something else?- as the Bat's fingers deftly shoved the shirt off his shoulders and arms, baring his torso. His eyes drank in the sight of the man, half-naked and scarred. The hunger that was overwhelming him at the sight was a bit disconcerting. He had a sudden and intense need to possess the madman, control him. There was something empowering about having chaos embodied beneath his fingers, trembling and pressing against him and making those soft little sounds of pleasure as his fingers explored, scratched, marked his flesh. It was those little sounds of pleasure doing him in, bit by bit. He had to remind himself to hang onto his self-control when his fingers slipped below the man's waist and a low, purring moan sounded from the Joker's throat.

He was in over his head here.

His eyes flitted to the Joker's face as he slid a hand up to the man's throat, tightened his grip to cut off his air. He watched, fascinated, as the clown leaned forward a bit, pushing into the hand grasping his throat, hips arching against his exploring fingers. He easily undid the smaller man's pants, slipped his fingers beneath the material. Releasing his hold on the Joker's throat, his hand moved down to slide beneath the other's ass. He lifted him slightly and the man's legs wrapped around his waist. He couldn't quite manage to stifle his groan as the madman's teeth sank into the flesh of his neck, hands sliding up his back. He sat the smaller man back down on the washing machine, sliding his pants and boxers (not briefs) down off his hips as he did so.

His hand found the man's hard cock and he brushed his fingers over it, lightly, teasing. The Joker gasped softly against his throat, thrust against him, eager for more. His fingers explored the length of it, trailed back up to the head to trace a slow circle with his thumb. The smaller man's teeth loosed from his throat as he threw his head back eyes closed, and made a sound that was part purr, part growl. He pushed against the Bat's hand wantonly, one hand on the dark knight's shoulder, the other gripping the back of his neck. Holding on.

"I should stop," the Bat murmured, eyes on the madman's face. He gripped the Joker's cock in his hand, gave it a light stroke, as he spoke the words.

"Nooo. No no no.." the Joker raised his head and opened his eyes to meet his gaze, "Not now, don't stop now.."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" he gave the man's cock another stroke, then two. The other whimpered quietly, dropped his head forward to rest it against the Bat's chest. His breath came out in soft pants as the dark knight began to stroke him steadily. Batman's own body was tense, his cock hard beneath his armor. The man's whimper, the tremors that racked his lean body, only increased his own arousal. His free arm slid around the man's waist and hips, pulling him closer as he stroked. The man's legs wrapped around his hips, hands clutching him, body tensing. The Bat leaned in to bite down on the clown's exposed throat, and the Joker came suddenly, arching hard against the knight as he did.

His strokes slowed as the madman spent himself, breathing ragged and rapid. The other fell against him, clung to him, forehead resting against his chest. The Bat remained motionless for several long moments, finally moving to reach over and snatch up the Joker's discarded shirt. He wiped his hand clean, his other arm still wrapped around the Joker's hips. The smaller man remained unmoving, and he took a deep breath, then titled his head to glance down at the madman. He stared a moment, brow raised, before a low laugh of disbelief escaped his lips. The Joker's eyes were closed, head resting against the Kevlar-plated chest, breathing steadying.

He was asleep.


	4. 4. Getting Hot

The Bat glanced around the large space, spotted a black faux leather sofa sitting near an old television in the corner. He lifted the man in his arms a bit, managing after several moments to slide his clothing back up over the lean hips. He didn't bother fastening them again as he re-positioned himself, lifting the clown in his arms. The Joker stirred, opened his eyes, closed them again with a soft sigh.

The Bat crossed the room to deposit the man, not ungentle, on the old couch. He hesitated, then quickly let his hands skim the man's body (as if he hadn't been intimate with it several minutes ago), to search for weapons. He came up with two knives, one in the man's pocket and the other hidden neatly at his ankle. He shook his head, stood and laid them on top of the old television. He then turned his eyes back to his sleeping nemesis.

The smaller man rolled over to his side as he watched, curling in an almost fetal position, but didn't wake. The Bat studied him curiously - it was as if the man had just shut off after expending so much energy in the sex from minutes ago. Most of his make-up had rubbed off in their earlier fight, and then in their tryst minutes ago (hell, half of it was smeared across the plating of his suit). He looked far more ..human, without it, in spite of the scars, which really weren't that unbecoming. It was an odd contrast to the Joker he knew and battled. He saw the man shiver in the cold room and glanced around, eyes searching. Spotting a table with articles of clothing strewn about it, he crossed to it. 'Lost & Found', a hand-written sign taped to the table proclaimed of the clothing. He eyed the pieces, moving several aside, finally coming across an almost thread-bare plaid blanket. Better than nothing, he supposed. He snatched it up and crossed back to the man on the couch. He asked himself exactly what he was doing as he covered the Joker with it, pulling it up over the shivering man's shoulders. He had no answers for himself. A moment of pity, perhaps, for the sleeping creature. He could almost forget what the other had done, the atrocities he had committed, here in the dark and cold. Almost, but not quite. The Bat stared at him for several seconds longer, then turned to cross to the large plate-glass window. He stared at the snow-covered world outside the glass, wondering how tonight had unfolded as it had. Eh, at least the unconscious man wasn't out right now, wreaking havoc upon Gotham..

He was still staring out the window a short while later, when he heard a stirring from the couch behind him. He half-turned, eyes resting on the still sleeping Joker. The man was moving about in his sleep, muttering beneath his breath. The Bat raised a brow as he sat up abruptly, breathing heavy and eyes wild, shooting glances about the room. The pale face turned in his direction and the smaller man froze for a moment. Finally he moved, shifting so that he was seated normally, his feet on the floor. His eyes fell on the plaid blanket laying in his lap, and a low laugh escaped him. "E-ever the gracious host, aren't you?" the madman chuckled, pulling the blanket over his shoulders, covering himself.

"Sleep well?" the Bat ignored the ribbing, countering with his own, as he moved across the room. "Mm," was the only response as the Joker tightened the blanket around himself. There was silence for a long moment, then he asked, "What happened earlier..does that mean we're d-dating?" The Bat's glare caused him to cackle - the sound echoed a bit in the large room. Batman seated himself on the couch beside the madman as if they were old chums - the smaller man tensed, eyes following every movement. "What happened tonight won't happen again," he assured, voice gruff.

"No?"

He watched as the smaller man leaned close, moving a hand to his leg and trailing fingers up his thigh, "That's a shaaame, Bats. How am I going to, uh, return the favor?" Batman watched his eyes narrow and a look of annoyance flash across his face as he pushed the clown's hand off his leg. "It's not going to happen again," he repeated firmly.

"Be a prude then, Bats," there was anger tracing the man's voice - he was sulking. Batman stared at him for a moment before asking, "What do you want, Joker? Roses and a ring? It shouldn't have happened, it won't-"

"Fuck you," the Joker snapped, leaping to his feet, the blanket falling away from his shoulders. Batman watched as he began to pace the floor, "You use everyone like that?" "What?" he stared incredulously at the madman, "I didn't-" "Whatever," came the angry interruption, "You take what you want and you-" The Bat was on his feet before the Joker could finish, moving in close. The smaller man managed half a step backward before he grabbed his wrist and hauled him close. "I didn't hear you complaining," he growled, his mouth hovering inches above the clown's. He saw the Joker's eyes fall to his mouth, and the other man licked his lips. It brought a smirk to his own features, and he lowered his head to almost whisper in the man's ear, "If and when I do decide I want to use you, then I'll do it." The other man drew a ragged breath, a slight tremor running through him. "Always have to have con-trol, don't you?" "Always," his lips brushed the smaller man's earlobe, nuzzling a moment before nipping at it with his teeth.

"Bats.." the Joker's voice dropped to a whisper as his fingers trailed paths up villain's side, edging him even closer. His eyes fluttered closed as the Bat nipped his jaw line, working his way down to his throat. "Thought you said this, uh.. wasn't going to happen again." There was a smirk in that voice.

The Bat swiped his tongue up the smaller man's jaw line, following the path his teeth had made moments before and eliciting a soft moan from the other man. He pulled back, stared down at the other's face, and whispered, "It's not."

With that, he released his hold on the Joker and pushed him lightly away, putting space between them. He watched the various emotions that flitted across the madman's face in gunfire succession: confusion, disbelief, anger. The anger overwhelmed the rest and a low growl escaped the smaller man's throat. He reached a hand into his pocket - the look on his face when he realized that his knife was missing was almost comical. Almost. He reached down, felt for the one at his ankle, found it gone as well. A moment later he was throwing himself at Batman, striking and clawing at him.

The force of the attack knocked the Bat backward, but he immediately regained his balance. He fended off the madman's attack, raising an armored arm to deflect the blows. Seeking, finding and seizing his opportunity, he snagged a handful of the man's curly locks and jerked him backward, throwing him off balance. Before the Joker could recover, the Bat was on him, jerking him forward, spinning him to pin him, back to chest, with a muscled arm around his throat. He pushed the smaller man forward so that they were nearly against the wall, giving him less room to maneuver. The smaller man growled and struggled, kicking and cursing him; finally he exhausted himself and ceased struggling.

"Finished?" the dark knight murmured, lips near the smaller man's ear. The Bat's hold on his throat loosed only enough to allow him to draw in harsh, ragged breaths, but not enough to break free. He could feel the lean creature in his arms trembling, whether it was the remainder of his rage or just a constant from all the energy contained within him, he wasn't certain. Nor was he certain why it made him so goddamn hard, to have the captive clown in this position.

They were both mad.

The Bat closed his eyes briefly, attempting to push down the side of him that was Bruce Wayne. It was Bruce whom was the playboy, the sexual side, not the Bat. So why the hell was he so aroused? Why the hell was he teasing (only teasing? Not quite) the Joker of all people, an explosion waiting to happen beneath his fingertips. Perhaps that was part of it - the thrill. The danger. The excitement of the unpredictable.

His eyes opened as he felt the man shift in his hold, attempting to slip free. "Be still." "You can't keep me here forever," the growled response grew breathless toward the end as he tightened his hold on the pale throat. He lowered his head to plant soft kisses on the Joker's pale shoulder, nipping at his flesh every few seconds. His free hand slid down the man's chest, stomach, trailed lower. The smaller man's pants were already hanging half off his hips from their struggle -he hadn't gotten around to fastening them. A slight tug sent them slipping down again, off the hips to bunch around his ankles. He felt the slim body in his grasp tense, trembling again. He tugged on the man's boxers, pulling them down off his hips. A few more tugs and they were joining his pants. The Bat glanced down over the man's shoulder, eyes taking in the sight of his now mostly naked body.

"I like to see you like this. At my mercy.."

He didn't know what in hell possessed him to admit that aloud, but his words brought a low sound from the other man. He couldn't tell if it was a gasp or a growl and, as his fingers began to roam the curve of the clown's hip, he didn't care. He let his fingertips brush along the man's inner thigh, pushing to part his legs a bit. He watched as they burned a path up the man's thigh; a glance at the Joker told him the clown was watching their progress as well. His eyes were on the other man's face as he brushed them up the length of his hardening cock, light teasing touches. The Joker's lips parted slightly, tongue sliding out to lick his lips and eyes on the hand at his groin.

He didn't avert his gaze from the smaller man's features when he loosed his hold on the man's neck long enough to lock a metal cuff around one wrist. The Joker blinked, glanced over at his own face, and smirked. "Kinky, Bats." His voice was a whisper in the cold air. He started to tug at the cuff but the hand which continued to rub his groin served as a distraction. If he noticed when the Bat reached up and locked the second cuff to a slim metal pole, which housed wires and ran from wall to ceiling, he gave no indication.

Batman slid his fingertips up the clown's cock, causing the other to arch against his hand. He nipped the Joker's jaw line, causing the other man to whimper a bit; a moment later he released his hold on the madman, pulled back and stepped away. The Joker was motionless for a second before half-turning to look at him. Confusion, arousal, impatience touched his features. The Bat lowered his head and brushed his lips, lightly, along the other man's. When the smaller man moved to reciprocate, following the Bat as he stepped back a bit, he found his attempt impeded by the cuff around his wrist. His eyes flitted to the metal bracelets, then back to the Bat.

It was Batman's turn to smirk. "Maybe I wasn't clear, Joker. It's not going to happen again."

Disbelief, followed closely by anger, crossed the Joker's face as he turned and headed for the building's exit. The Bat chuckled to himself, his sadistic side rising again, as the smaller man yanked at the cuffs, howling with rage.

If the Gotham police wondered why the Joker was half-naked and cuffed to a pole when they arrived 10 minutes later, they didn't dare voice it. They simply stood and stared, unsettled and frightened (though none of them admitted it aloud), as they awaited the SWAT team to come and deal with the maniac.

From his perch atop a nearby rooftop, the city's anti-hero watched as the Joker was loaded into a SWAT van. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that the local police force -nor Arkham - could hold the madman for long. Still, the city would get a brief reprieve for as long as they could contain him. He watched as the madman paused suddenly, half-turned to glance up in his direction. A smirk touched the painted mouth, and the Bat's own mouth went dry. He cursed himself for anticipating already his next meeting with the madman, and turned to disappear in the dark.


End file.
